


Five Times Panne Successfully Avoided Having Her Ears Petted (And Two Times She Asked For It)

by WindStainedDreams



Series: How to Spin a Tale [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: 5+2 fic, Angst, Everyone wants to pet Panne's ears, F/M, Fluff, Gen, I swear I love Panne, She is having none of your man-spawn bullshit, Warnings for Graphic Violence, also very cute, and major character death, bring the tissues, death of a baby, very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 15:25:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9447437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindStainedDreams/pseuds/WindStainedDreams
Summary: Everyone in the Shepherds wants to know what a Taguel's ears feel like.  This is what they do to try and find out.





	

Lissa watched as the strange woman who had just saved her sister’s life talked with Emmeryn.  Standoffish and rude, the Taguel was a new sight for the young princess.  She’d heard some tales as a young child, but hadn’t thought about the shapeshifters at all in years.  After seeing one now for the first time and hearing her tragic tale, Lissa felt bad that she’d ignored some of her people to the point of near extinction.  It was a sad thing to see someone have to be so strong.  At least Panne seemed to be warming to Emm, even if she positively glared at everyone else. 

 

The Ylissean princess had only caught a single glimpse of the shapeshifter during the battle, but she was intrigued.  Panne was, essentially, a giant bunny rabbit.  And in Lissa’s experience, bunnies had some of the softest fur.  Panne’s ears stood out pale against her dark hair.  Lissa couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to pet those ears.  Were they as soft as they looked? 

 

Lissa decided she’d try and find out.  She walked up to the two women and cleared her throat.  Emm looked at Lissa and smiled, but Panne’s eyes narrowed.  Lissa felt her knees tremble but was determined get an answer to her question.  She approached Panne and tried to hug her, but the Taguel actually growled at her.  Emm’s hand on her shoulder stopped Lissa from touching the other woman and Lissa wilted. 

 

“I just wanted to say thank you so much for saving my sister tonight.  You were a wonderful help, and I am so sorry your experience with other humans has been so horrible.  Thank you.” Lissa tried to put aside her disappointment and say what she wanted to say, even if she couldn’t touch those silky looking ears. 

 

Panne looked uncomfortable, but something in her eyes softened for the briefest moment as she nodded once.  Then Panne walked away, headed towards Chrom, probably to chew Lissa’s brother out about some small human thing he did that she had no patience for. 

 

Emmeryn pulled Lissa into the aborted hug, holding her sister close after the scare of their lives. 

 

*****

 

Gaius watched the Taguel run ahead and decapitate three enemy soldiers with one kick.  Panne was reserved, spending a lot of time in camp on her own, and usually wasn’t even in camp when she could help it.  Seeing her in action was incredible. 

 

In his travels Gaius had seen a lot and heard a lot.  One thing he knew he could never share now that they had a Taguel in their midst was that his favourite item of clothing, now reduced to little more than a stained strip, was a scarf made of Taguel fur.  A violent king in ages past had enjoyed a less than savoury hunt, and commissioned clothing and items made of the rich fur of the shapeshifters.  The feline clan of Taguel that had provided this piece of fur had been extinct for decades, but the scarf was excellent when Gaius had nowhere else to stay and needed that extra warmth. 

 

If he could admit it to himself, which, since meeting the Shepherds he tried to do, he wanted to pet the Taguel.  He wanted to see if Panne’s fur was as soft and warm as the fur hidden under his collar.  The chance to touch the fur of another Taguel was almost as irresistible to Gaius as the lure of honey.  He just hadn’t had the chance to do it yet.  While the heat of battle was not the best place to try and pet a giant bunny, Gaius was going to seize the chance if it presented itself. 

 

Panne was hit by an arrow, and Gaius rushed to her side.  He was about to reach for her head, to check for injuries (and softness) when a healing spell from the distant Libra healed her enough for her to rise again and bound off, probably to drink a dose of concoction.  Gaius missed his chance.  He didn’t have long to lament it, however, as another arrow narrowly missed hitting him in the leg and he too retreated to safer ground.  _Another time_ , he promised himself.  _Another time_. 

 

*****

 

Cordelia watched the Taguel slink away, rapid on her feet even in her more human form.  The care with which the other woman had treated Cordelia’s pegasus made the knight pause as she considered her own actions.  Since she was always trying so hard to take care of others, it would be her goal to do something nice for Panne as a sign of gratitude. 

 

Cordelia observed the other woman, tried to learn her habits and what she might need brought back from the market next time Cordelia flew for supplies.  It wasn’t easy; the elusive Taguel was good at hiding herself and avoiding the company of those she still did not trust.  It took days of observation before Cordelia came up with the idea to bring back a gentle brush for Panne’s hair.  She kept it wrapped around her ears to muffle the loud noises of a military camp, but even a Beast needed to take care of herself. 

 

Cordelia considered the variety of brushes she could possibly get, and settled on two.  A currying brush, like the one she used to treat her pegasus’s mane and coat for her ears, shorter bristles meant to handle fur, as well as one made for human hair, designed to untangle knots without pulling too hard.  The redhead hoped that the gifts would be well received, as Cordelia hoped they would show she cared for her friends as much as she did for her mount. 

 

The next time they passed a village and needed supplies Cordelia could carry, she made sure to stop and look for some of the best brushes that would suit her needs.  The village shops offered nothing, however, and Cordelia left without her gift to the Taguel. 

 

There was nothing to be found in the travelling merchant caravan’s wares either, when they crossed paths and had a few hours of more lighthearted cheer on their march.  Cordelia began to despair of finding something suitable to help Panne comb her hair and fur. 

 

Cordelia finally found the perfect set of brushes weeks later.  She purchased them, not caring that the merchant was probably asking more than they were worth because she could see how eager Cordelia was.  She wrapped them in paper and put them safely in her bag, impatient to return to camp and present her friend with the gift. 

 

It took until after the evening meal for Cordelia to find Panne and give her the parcel.  Panne’s eyes lit up when she saw the brushes, and Cordelia was pleased that she’d chosen right.  It was a set made for a young girl, with a white rabbit painted on a stylized forest floor, wooden handle smooth and rosy tinted.  Panne smiled as she took out the brushes from their paper and examined them. 

 

“Would you like some help, Panne?” Cordelia inquired, curious to see if the Taguel would permit the touch of a human, especially in so intimate an act as brushing someone else’s hair.  She was also curious to know what her hair felt like, if all of it was still soft despite the knots, or if only the fur-covered-ears were smooth and silky and Panne’s hair was as normal as everyone else’s.  “I often helped Sumia comb her hair when we were little, it would be an honour to help you as well”. 

 

Panne smiled, but shook her head.  “Thank you, but no.  Unwrapping my ears near anyone else will be too loud after so long, and I know the kindness is meant to be a help, but for now I must refuse.  You have brought me a wonderful gift and for that I can only express my deepest gratitude.”

 

Cordelia nodded in her turn and parted with a quiet wish for pleasant dreams.  It would seem that she would not yet know what it would be like to touch Panne’s ears.  Cordelia would wait.  She was, if nothing else, a very patient woman. 

 

*****

 

Henry watched Panne as she ate her carrot.  She was quite a distance away from the rest of the Shepherds that had gone down to the river to swim and bathe.  He was hoping that the sleeping potion he had dipped the carrots in would work soon, so that he might get a clipping of the Taguel’s fur for one of his curses.  With so few Taguel of any kind left, finding their fur was harder than ever and some of Henry’s most powerful spells depended on the fine strands.  It was frustrating not being able to curse someone properly because he had to substitute the fur of the mundane beast they transformed into for Taguel fur.  A rabbit did not hold the same power. 

 

He watched and waited, ready to slip close to her and clip a few strands when she was napping.  She ate one carrot, then two.  Another.  She should have been asleep by now, snoring loud enough to wake the dead from their graves (and Henry would know about raising the dead).  And yet, there she was, eyes as alert as ever, ears twitching at every new sound that came from the forest around them.  It wasn’t working.  Something had gone wrong. 

 

Were Taguel somehow immune to some of the sleeping potion’s ingredients?   Panne’s resistance to spells wasn’t particularly high, so it couldn’t have been defense against magic keeping Panne awake.  Henry didn’t think he could have mixed it wrong, or said the wrong incantation.  He had tried very hard to ensure that it would not be fatal, but it should still be effective.  He had even considered asking Libra or Maribelle for a sleeping draught instead, but knew that they were too nosy. 

 

As Henry watched, Panne finished off the last of her carrots, completely fine.  In fact, it was because Panne was so quick to react that he noticed Donnel flailing in the water at all.  It seemed as if the youth had suddenly lost strength in his limbs and needed to be pulled ashore.  The purple haired boy sat down, waving away the concerned Shepherds, and yawned large and loud.  Whatever he said to Lissa must have satisfied her, because she nodded without doing anything.  Donny lay down on the shore; head pillowed on his arms and promptly fell asleep.  Soon he was snoring, deep breaths shaking the thin towel someone, probably the blond princess, had laid over him. 

 

Henry knew what went wrong.  Panne had eaten the wrong carrots.  Donny had probably just grabbed the tainted ones, disregarding the tag that said “Property of Panne, you mortal whelp” on the bundle and eaten them anyway.  That meant that the sleeping potion had almost drowned the young farmer, instead of making Panne drift off to a nice dream about carrot patches and letting Henry clip some of the fur.  It had been a risk worth taking, but Henry knew he’d have to bide his time and wait now, making sure that Panne would suspect nothing the next time he tried. 

 

He would get his Taguel fur, one way or another, even if he had to cut it from Panne’s dead body.  

 

*****

 

Robin reached out to try and pet Panne’s ears over the dining table one night.  No warning, no explanation, simply a hand stretching for her head.  Panne dodged, and Robin’s hand landed in Virion’s wine goblet, knocking it over.  Robin cursed and fussed, passing the Duke a napkin to clean himself and his dinner plate up with.  More curses fell from Robin’s lips at the missed opportunity to pet the fuzzy ears.  So close.  So gods damned close. 

 

*****

 

Gregor brushed back the sweaty hair hiding Panne’s face from him.  She lay there panting, trying to catch her breath.  She fit in his arms as perfectly as she had when they first started talking, and he cherished the moments his wife let him cuddle her close.  She was so strong, his bunny.  So proud, so fierce, the last Taguel. 

 

She rested her head against his shoulder, dark hair soft against the bare, scarred skin.  He traced the line of her ear thought the braids she had wrapped them in, knowing how much she shivered when the velvety fur was petted.  It also soothed the woman, calmed her nerves. 

 

As she strained once more, pushing with all the strength left in her wounded body, Gregor kept petting her ears.  Pain upon pain glazed the eyes of his love, and there was nothing Gregor could do.  The arrow had pierced her middle, a truly damaging wound at the best of times. 

 

When carrying a baby it was even more devastating. 

 

The healers were trying, Lissa standing by with her staff, Maribelle trying to coax the baby out and ensure that it was alive.  Libra was trying to stop the flow of blood around the arrow’s shaft, doing what little could be done to not increase the damage to Panne’s flesh.  The healers were desperate, but the tears in Lissa’s eyes said it all. 

 

Today was the day Gregor would lose his family. 

 

Panne pushed once more, trying to listen to Maribelle’s voice, Gregor’s, anyone’s.  Blood covered the fingers petting her ears, Libra’s and Maribelle’s robes, the bed.   There was a wet, plopping sound, but no scream.  Maribelle vomited off to the side of the bed, tears in the corner of her eyes.  She shook her head at Gregor. 

 

The baby was gone, then. 

 

Panne slumped, still, in Gregor’s arms.  She seemed to sense that there was no longer a small life inside her, and moaned in pain as the arrow sank deeper despite Libra’s efforts to pull it out now that there was nothing to hold back for.  Eventually the priest broke off the top of the shaft and started pushing it through to the other side of her, the barbs clearly caught on bone to not be coming out as they should. 

 

Panne screamed. 

 

Gregor continued to whisper meaningless promises in her ear, caressing the warm fuzz beneath his blood stained hands.  The broken shaft disappeared into the mass of angry red skin in her abdomen, pushed ever deeper by slender fingers, and Gregor lifted her as best he could so that Libra could get underneath his patient and pull.  Gregor watched as the tip broke skin, cutting Libra’s fingers as he gripped the head to pull out the vile arrow.  Eventually, with a sick, sucking sound, the arrow came free, but it was too late.  The damage had been done. 

 

Panne shivered, no longer even having the strength to moan.  Her breath wheezed from her, each moment an agony beyond any Gregor could imagine.  It was his duty to protect his family, and he had failed.  If only he could have been there, taken the arrow for her, she would live to bring their child into the world.  But it would not be. 

 

“Gregor…”

 

“Yes, my bunny?”

 

“Will you… will you pet my ears?” 

 

“Of course, little rabbit.”  Gregor said, tears in his eyes.  His wife could not feel his fingers, tracing over her ears as they had been, but he pretended he could do this last thing for her. 

 

She died, the strength of the last Taguel not enough to sustain her any longer, while her husband felt the velvet grow cold under his caress. 

 

*****

 

Panne and Gregor sat under the stars, watching the meteors fly by in bright stellar streaks.  They were counting, seeing which one could see the most falling stars and make the most wishes, almost as if they were children.  Gregor had kept his promise to be her gateway to the human world, and her husband was as fierce a protector as any Taguel should be.  Panne felt safe in the arms of the large, rust haired mercenary. 

 

The night sky lay open before them, their clifftop seat an excellent vantage point for watching the stars.  They twinkled and sparkled, so far away and yet so many.  No matter what Gregor insisted, Panne would always believe the tales of the Taguel ancestors, the Rabbit in the Moon, the Cat chasing the Mouse across the sky.  She also felt her ancestors watching over her from the faint points of light. 

 

Two wars over, another battle, possibly their final battle, looming on the distant horizon, and yet a moment of quiet peace here in this remote valley was shared by the couple.  Panne wished that time would grow long, stretch this moment over the years to come.  There was enough blood on her fur to last her all her extended lifetime.  The call to arms was wearing them all down.  Beauty like this made all the fighting worth it.  Panne would protect that to her dying breath, and so would Gregor. 

 

The rabbit thought back to one of the first conversations she had had with Gregor, about another celestial event.  She had been so scared when the darkness had come.  Gregor had caught her and sheltered her.  He had taught her much.  They had grown together as a couple, Panne finding her place among the Shepherds more easily once she had her guide. 

 

The last Taguel remembered Gregor asking her for something, once.  Something that she had refused then, for many reasons, most of which were still valid reasons tonight.  Still, years had passed and Panne missed a certain intimacy she had not felt since she was a young one in her warren, since she had been forced into hiding to stay alive.

 

“Gregor?”

 

“Yes, my little bunny rabbit?”

 

“Would you like to caress my ears?”

**Author's Note:**

> NaNo Hell Day 3 - Caress 
> 
> So. Yeah. I did warn you. *hands over tissues* 
> 
> As always, leave a comment here or [ on Tumblr ](http://tinbramblearts.tumblr.com/) to let me know what you think.


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